The Damned Episode 2: Mad Love
by RobertlaMorte
Summary: Faith and La Morte's relationship deepens, Buffy seemingly abandons the group, Micah Luke mobilizes his army and Oz returns to the scoobies and the fang gang with a severe warning. EPISODE COMPLETE!
1. Teaser

The flux of light from both the moon and the street lights illuminated the figures below. Darkness engulfed the buildings and all except the pitiful remnant that was not illuminated. Two figures made love under the feeble glow. Faith embraced La Morte and her lips connected with his. His strong grip loosened, and she felt his now gentle fingers loosen the buttons on her shirt. She felt lower down his torso while her passionate brown eyes met his cold blue ones. He raised his other hand and sifted it through her cascading raven hair. He detached his lips from hers and they both stared at each other for only a few seconds that seemed like an eternity.  
  
She spoke up, "why?"  
  
La Morte smiled and didn't answer. He whirled around and ran off into the night. Faith didn't follow him and slid down the wall, exhausted from her long, tedious day culminating in the little incidents with La Morte. She had been going at it with Robin Wood, and had screwed dozens of other guys but this man seemed different. He was shadowy, mysterious, a tenacious fighter, passionate and handsome. A smirk crossed her face as she recalled Caleb's comment to her that she was a Cain to Buffy's Abel. Well, if that was true then La Morte definitely was her version of Angel and Spike. In fact, he seemed to combine the best of both worlds. He had the mysterious, shadowy, brooding sense of Angel and the British spunk, humor and savage passion of Spike. True, he had just tried to kill her, but that never mattered to Faith, she always loved dangerous men but this dangerous man was surely different from the others.  
  
"Faith."  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a purple-haired figure.  
  
"What do you want?" she snarled until she recognized the short man in front of her. He was dressed in a black leather biker's jacket, a sweat-stained t-shirt and jeans, an ensemble different from the Sunnydale High School student she knew years before.  
  
"Oz."  
  
Oz grinned, "That's me."  
  
He reached out a hand to help her up. She accepted his palm and slowly rose to her feet. Oz chuckled suddenly.  
  
"So who's the new boyfriend or should I say nemesis? I can't really tell the difference with you Faith."  
  
Faith restrained herself from strangling Oz right there and returned the smile.  
  
"I guess he's just a friend."  
  
"Okay, well, I heard all about what happened since I left. Just seemed bizarre, you reforming, Willow turning into a big bad, Buffy and Spike, Dawn, Glory, the First Evil. I wished I could've come back but I had a few pressing commitments in Australia."  
  
"Australia?"  
  
"Don't ask, it's a long story."  
  
"Guess I got all the time in the world, O."  
  
Oz flinched at the little nickname. Faith always had a habit of calling people by the first letter of their first name, it seemed like some people just never change. He thought for a minute and then answered Faith.  
  
"Faith, this is kind of important. I need to see the others right away, something really bad is brewing in this town and I suggest you take me to the hotel right away," Oz's tone changed from jesting to grave and his smile transformed into a frown.  
  
"Alright," Faith nodded, her dark makeup highlighting her astonished features. "I'll take you over there." She motioned for him to follow her and they vanished off into the night.  
  
Meanwhile, in a rundown section of LA, a desolate cathedral welcomed the shadowy figure entering it. He was dressed in the black armor and cloak of Robert La Morte. Robert collapsed once he entered the building and reflected on why he had spared the life of the slayer he was supposed to kill and then he proceeded to make love to the whore.  
  
He tried to force out the sensations of lust and desire for the raven- haired slayer but he couldn't. She was just so.beautiful, so powerful and athletic. How he lusted to have her. He remembered his last love; he never loved anyone for over 500 years. Her name was Bianca Laszlo, she was a Hungarian princess who fell in love with him. She was literate, smart and rich, possessing an exotic beauty while he was a rugged, dirty vagabond born of peasants who had become a knight through his own devotion and skill. He recalled how Bianca's suitor, a jealous supercilious lord arranged for her murder and blamed it on him. He was left a fugitive throughout Europe and was hunted like a dog through the forests of the Balkans until the lord found him. The haughty villain then turned La Morte over to a satanic cult and supervised them in a ritual that planned to turn La Morte into a powerful warrior of darkness a creature part human and part demon. Luckily, a group of Jesuits intervened and they were able to alter the ritual so that he, now possessed the blood of an angel to counteract the vile demon blood within him. Nevertheless, he could command both the light and dark magicks with ease, he possessed superhuman agility and strengthen unknown to any vampire or slayer and he could even kill a hellgod with his sword.  
  
He encountered Bianca years later, now a ruthless vampire terrorizing the lands where her dying father ruled. It was a swift fight and he never felt any qualms about staking his former lover. He never even felt emotion, passion or love until now. Perhaps those feeling had been concealed within him for some time and now he had met a human capable of receiving those feelings. He seized his head as his mind battled for control of its thoughts, both his angelic and demon sides combating in a frenzy. He writhed on the ground hoping the pain in his head would stop until the tall figure of Micah Luke stood over him.  
  
"Come my son, it's time." The hand of Micah beseeched him to follow and La Morte obeyed overriding his desire for Faith and he rose up and followed the tall man.  
  
Micah let out a piercing laugh, "it seems the bitch has afflicted you with her whorish charms. Nevermind, you shall deal with her later." 


	2. Act One

Roll Titles: The Damned  
  
Starring:  
  
Eliza Dushku as Faith  
  
Casey Affleck as Sir Robert La Morte  
  
Alexis Denisof as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce  
  
Alyson Hannigan as Willow Rosenberg  
  
David Boreanz as Angel  
  
And Seth Green as Daniel 'Oz' Osborne  
  
Michelle Trachtenberg as Dawn Summers  
  
Special Guest Stars:  
  
Anthony Stewart Head as Rupert Giles  
  
Nicholas Brendon as Alexander 'Xander' Harris  
  
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood  
  
Amy Acker as Winifred 'Fred' Burkle  
  
J. August Richards as Charles Gunn  
  
Andy Hallett as Lorne  
  
Iyari Limon as Kennedy  
  
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood  
  
Vincent Karthieser as Connor  
  
Jake Busey as Micah Luke  
  
Arnold Vosloo as Gideon.  
  
And Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers  
  
Faith stormed into the hotel lobby with a face contorted with rage. She immediately searched for the cowardly Xander, Gunn and Connor who had abandoned her to her fate at the hands of La Morte. She peered at the row of faces staring at her, but only saw everyone but the dastardly trio.  
  
"Anyone seen Xander, Gunn or Connor?" She quietly asked, her voice innocently masking the furor within.  
  
"No.I'm afraid not," instantaneously answered Giles, whose nervous voice also tried to conceal an obvious lie.  
  
Faith rolled her eyes, "c'mon G-man, I just want a little payback, that's all."  
  
Giles winced at the nickname, but refused to even return a glance at the vengeful brown eyes staring at him.  
  
Luckily, he could rely on Willow to avert the potential disaster awaiting them all.  
  
"Faith, I'm sure they're really sorry, but there are more important things to concern you than petty trifles like this. We tried to reach you and convince you that La Morte was quite dangerous.I'm sure you would have had second thoughts about confronting him," the redhead spoke calmly but congenially, trying to restore a sense of cooperation between Faith and the others.  
  
"Red, don't worry about it, I'm not going to kill them or anything, that Faith's gone," Faith smiled trying to jest her anger away.  
  
"Connor said that you fought La Morte, and surprisingly from his description, I'd warrant that you shouldn't have survived, now I might inquire how you were able to?" spoke up Wesley, who stuck up his chin in a skeptical manner. From the anxious descriptions of Xander, Wesley even a Connor who seemed slightly uncomfortable, he speculated that it was guaranteed that Faith had no chance against the seemingly unstoppable immortal power arrayed against her.  
  
Faith's stern expression suddenly changed. Her eyes whirled around and she tried to manage a smile, a resemblance of the old Faith everyone knew, the tough girl who never lost a fight.well with a few notable exceptions. "It really wasn't a problem, the guy just came right at me and I turned him into a man-bitch-" Faith stammered, trying to lay out a convincing alibi because she was sure the gang was probably not ready for the actual truth.  
  
"From the looks of what I saw, it was more of you guys went from trying to kill each other to lovebirds, I'd even say he made you his bitch," spoke up a voice from behind Faith.  
  
Oz had stayed outside the hotel, waiting for Faith to hopefully provide a decent introduction for him, but since she showed no signs of doing so, he figured he might as well make a witty entrance.  
  
Everyone stared up from Faith to face the purple-haired figure of Oz, whom none of them had seen nor heard from in years. Most of them Oz didn't recognize, there were a whole bunch of girls, including a brown haired girl that was as tall as him who resembled Buffy. Sure, he remembered Wesley, Willow, Giles and Faith but everything else appeared alien to him.  
  
"Who are you?" snarled the brunette Buffy.  
  
Oz opened his mouth to answer her, but Willow answered instead. "It's Oz, my friend from the high school, I'm sure you don't remember, Dawn."  
  
Dawn, he thought, so this is the famous Key that Willow had emailed him about. He heard all about how a group of monks had disguised a key as a human, the sister of the blonde vampire slayer he hung around with in high school. They transplanted memories of her into almost everyone still in Sunnydale, but because he was conveniently out of the country, so he did not suddenly recall the forged memories of Dawn. Due to the bewilderment of the others and the astonishment of his old Sunnydale friends at his sudden return, Oz decided it might be best to provide an suitable introduction.  
  
"Hi, I'm Daniel Osborne. I used to belong to a band called Dingoes Ate my Baby, but lately I've been wandering the world. I'm a lycanthrope, or a werewolf for those of you who don't know what that is. I was formerly madly in love with Willow, but I'm sure for both of our sakes we should pleasantly avoid the topic. I heard all about what happened over the past few years and I'm sorry I wasn't here to help any of you. I should have been there, but I guess that's all behind us. I came because I received some very disturbing news that concerns you all. After Sunnydale's destruction, the hellmouth has found another suitable location in this country. Or at least, another hellmouth has suddenly appeared and demonic activity has shifted over there," he spoke slowly and methodically.  
  
"And where is that?" inquired Faith, crossing her arms.  
  
"Cleveland," Oz answered her.  
  
Faith burst out laughing, "Cleveland. Of all the places in the world, the demons choose Cleveland as a new base of operations, this is just too funny."  
  
Giles shot her an irate look, "I'm afraid Cleveland has always been a popular destination of demonic activity, I suppose the demons would prefer an area that's colder and less sunny than California and Ohio is the perfect place for breeding grounds."  
  
Oz nodded, "I even heard rumors that now the First Evil's out of business, a new big bad's heading there. His name is Ulrich and this guy's possibly the most powerful vampire in the world."  
  
"Not possibly, I'm afraid he is the most powerful vampire in the world," Lorne, who had relegated himself towards the back of the room in a leisurely couch stood up. "In fact, I'm fairly certain that he's the first vampire."  
  
"Woah! Now I'm interested," Faith smirked, "this guy look anything like Kakistos."  
  
"I'd say compared to Ulrich, Kakistos was Justin Timberlake. Ulrich's a total badass, and he resembles a balrog more than a human. He's got the cloven hooves, horns, bat wings, forked tail, leathery skin, fangs, barely any trace of human in him. He's been underground for thousands of years, heck, most of the demon community thought he was killed during the time of Hammurabi, but I guess not," Lorne retorted with a slight chuckle at a final joke which he thought was funny.  
  
However, the rest of the group did not. Even Faith had adopted the grim faces of all of them.  
  
Then, Xander stepped into the room with a sheepish grin on his face along with Gunn and Connor, who were discreetly trying to not be seen.  
  
"So what'd I miss?" Xander gave his famous innocent Xander-grin.  
  
Faith answered, "Nothing, just that I'm going to kick your asses for leaving me to La Morte's sword."  
  
Connor tried to defend Xander, "We're sorry, I mean you heard Kennedy, he just seemed a bit out of league."  
  
Faith charged forward and started to break into a full sprint heading towards the three. Kennedy, Wood and Fred luckily stood in her way and prevented Faith from venting her furor upon the hapless men and quickly restrained her despite the peeved grunting of the black-haired slayer.  
  
"I'm sure that you enjoyed making out with him after you had a little romp and a soirée," snickered Lorne, who typically was trying to derive some humor from the rather tense situation.  
  
Gunn ignored both Faith and the horned singing demon and addressed Oz, "Well, Oz, I'm sure you haven't heard but we've been receiving calls about a fanatical army assembling among the dregs of LA's society that's marching right for this hotel right now. So, I'm just asking your opinion on how we solve these twin crises?"  
  
Everyone turned to face the huge black man, some of the women had horrified looks on their faces. Wesley's face turned from a serene pale to an enraged red, "Since when were you going to inform us of that little matter?"  
  
"Well, I thought you all knew," stammered Gunn, who was backing away and trying to avoid the angry stares from everyone.  
  
"Guys, this bickering has to stop, right now, we have two seriously bad problems facing us. Now, we only have a couple decisions facing us. We can continue squabbling and wait for whatever zealous horde of fanatics to descend upon us. We can try to figure out a plan for stopping this problem, then attend to Cleveland. Or we can just sit here and do nothing and let the fanatics overrun LA while Ulrich turns the America into a vampire feeding ground. I guess the second choice seems the best to me, but I'd like to know if anyone else has any dissenting opinion?" Fred asserted her leadership and the room was suddenly silent.  
  
Then, a tall dark-haired man burst through the doors dressed entirely in black. It was the tall, beefy form of Angel, whose face was masked with distress.  
  
"Buffy.she's gone!" 


	3. Act Two

The group started at the newcomer in shock. They all knew directly or at least indirectly about the great Buffy the vampire slayer. Some of them, particularly Willow, Angel and Giles, suspected Buffy to be in a latest state of depression but none of them could have expected her to vanish so suddenly. It just didn't seem like her to disappear and abandon her friends to their fates.  
  
Angel noticed the looks of disbelief on the faces of the others and nodded, "I know this doesn't seem like her, but Buffy's different. She's not the same person that left Sunnydale. I just tried to talk to her, but she refused to acknowledge me and told me that she was leaving."  
  
Willow found the news especially distressing since Buffy was her best friend and she seized Kennedy's hand in a tight squeeze. Giles raised an eyebrow as he struggled to accept what Angel had just relayed to the crowd. Looks of astonishment passed amongst the slayers in training and the fang gang.  
  
Faith erupted, "What are you talking about? B would never do anything of the sort!" She fought back tears of anger and frustration as her voice quavered in fury.  
  
"Good riddance," grumbled Dawn, who decided to hide her sorrow by expressing insults about her sister, "I guess she just decided it was time to stop saving the world and let everyone else die while she goes off and cries about her stupid Spike."  
  
"Dawn!" Willow snapped at the younger brunette. "How dare you say such a thing? She is your sister!"  
  
Angel tried to comfort the despairing crowd, "I tried to stop but she was just not Buffy. I let her go because she didn't want to even hold a pleasant conversation with me.she even informed me that her friends hated her and she had none, the only friend she ever had was-.and he's gone, so she's leaving." He tried to restrain himself from losing it in front of them, but deaf ears heard his reassurances.  
  
"Great! Just great! Buffy decides to go through a psychological crisis when another big bad rears his ugly face and is about to destroy us all! It never fails!" Xander shouted as he stormed off towards the rooms upstairs.  
  
"Xander, after all the things she did for you? After all the times she saved us from some evil or even ourselves? And yet you still remain ungrateful? I honestly don't believe this," Giles retorted back, his stern British features tearstained.  
  
Wesley and Fred looked at each other and tried to promise reassurances to the group, but the lobby group dispersed to their respective rooms or to the lounge to wallow in misery or frustration. Soon, all the people left were Faith, Fred, Wesley, Willow, Kennedy and Angel. Willow was in tears while her shorter lover held her hand and tried to soothe her acute distress while Wesley paced about the room. Angel and Faith were the hardest hit by the loss of Buffy, they remembered how she continued to believe in them ironically after both of them caused her terrible misery and tried to kill her in cold blood. Angel tried to walk over to Faith in an attempt to reach the stubborn raven-haired beauty in her leather ensemble, but Faith remained rooted to her spot and refused to listen to the tall vampire. Fred let out a loud sigh and held up her hands.  
  
"I know I'm as upset as all of you, but we need to regroup and prepare for battle. Buffy might have left us, but Micah Luke and his followers sure have not, in fact they're probably marching on this position right now with the sole intention of killing us all and razing this place to the ground. It might be beneficial if we stop brooding and start fighting." Fred had tired of the constant sermons she had to preach for the past few hours, especially with the newly arrived contingent from the former town of Sunnydale.  
  
Wesley joined her, "Fred's right, I'll go try to rally the others. No telling when Luke and his followers will be here. And these are humans we're up against, not demons, which makes the job harder since most of us haven't fought humans before." He emphasized the most while staring at Faith, Willow and Angel, all of whom had dark histories concerning human bloodshed.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean 'most of us'?" Faith asked skeptically.  
  
Willow interrupted her, "I'll go with Wesley and try to gather the others, Kennedy, Angel and Faith, we're going to need scouts on patrol to warn us when this army will be upon us."  
  
"Can do," Angel nodded and he whirled around and tramped outside the comfortable shelter of the Hyperion into the bleak California night.  
  
Willow, Fred and Wesley ran throughout the Hyperion, trying to assemble a defense force against the ever-looming threat. Pole arms, axes, swords, crossbows and other hand-to-hand weapons were distributed amongst the fang gang, the potential slayers and the scoobies. Several potentials approached Wesley armed with stakes. He shook his head and handed them some edged weapons from the chest he was carrying.  
  
"I'm afraid there aren't any vampires tonight."  
  
"Well, then what type of demons are we up against?" one of the potentials asked, a really tall blonde haired girl who spoke in a heavy southern drawl.  
  
Wesley hesitated for a second to answer her question, then he shrugged his shoulders and answered nonchalantly, "there are no demons, only humans."  
  
He left the potentials to ponder his words and he ran over to the lounge to warn Giles and the others.  
  
Meanwhile, Kennedy and Faith followed Angel. They matched the vampire's movements but kept a slower pace and always remained a few steps behind him. Faith gazed over at her sister slayer. Kennedy was dressed in blue jeans and a lime colored t-shirt, a slightly more conservative style than Faith. Faith chuckled at the thought but immediately turned her thoughts to more important matters.  
  
For the past few hours, her thoughts had kept wandering over to La Morte. It seemed so ironic that the fiery hatred that had consumed them had so suddenly been transformed into fervent passion. It reminded her once again of Buffy, who despised and hated the platinum blonde vampire punk in a leather duster but ended up falling head over heels for his British charm and his dangerous attitude. Maybe B was right; she and Faith weren't that much different, only she was darker in alignment and more passionate in disposition than the shorter blonde. She had previously enjoyed a fling with Robin Wood, the sex was enthralling but he didn't quite have the spark, the wit, the battle skills or the strength of La Morte. Angellus was nothing compared to La Morte, the dark-haired, bearded, scruffy form embellished by the glistening suit of black armor and the billowing black cloak surely topped the inhuman viciousness of Angel's darker demon side.  
  
Faith knew she had an attraction to evil, worse than her blonde counterpart. After all, it was she who betrayed her friends for the compassionate paternalism offered by the Mayor. He was a father figure to her, respected her and treated her like she wasn't just some raging slut. But her devotion for the mayor inspired her to commit vile acts, such as murdering innocent humans and trying to kill both Xander, Buffy and Angel and of course help the mayor in his scheme for world domination. Buffy always believed in her even when they were fighting outside Faith's apartment, a brawl that ended with a knife in Faith's abdomen that sent her in a coma for a year. Then, she returned with a vengeance and wrought havoc in both Sunnydale and La, inflicting more misery on her former friends who had sheltered her and treated her like an equal and it was all for jealousy and hatred. Those two darker sides of passion almost destroyed her but she overcame her evil half and reformed. Still, she knew secretly that she still possessed the same brutality and murderous instincts only she just knew how to restrain herself and conceal such thoughts better than she could several years ago.  
  
And La Morte seemed like her true love, he was just like her. A dark, malevolent personality filled with passion and addicted to danger and violence. She knew where she would go tonight and her attraction towards the black knight outweighed her responsibility to the others. Faith even figured that she could somehow extract information from the dark demon and angel childe by making him her boy-toy like all the other guys she met. Yet, he was different than the others, this one would not be her boy-toy, in fact the probability was greater that he was powerful enough to make her his toy. And in her own little screwed up brain, she loved it and she lusted for him, for his body without the menacing armor. And she would have it. Her thought snapped to figuring out a way to discreetly escape from the monotony of patrolling and pay a visit to her Catholic friend.  
  
"Kennedy, Angel, I think we'd cover more ground if we split up. You guys should take the East side and patrol around there and I'll watch the West side for any sign of fanatic activity. I'll call you on your cell if I spot anything and vice-versa. We'll meet back regardless in three hours, all right? Sound good to you guys?" Faith spoke slowly, to assure Angel and Kennedy that she was not up to the surreptitious plan she had so recently concocted.  
  
They believed her lie and concurred, running off towards their end of the neighborhood while Faith sprinted off with a huge smirk on her face. She remembered the location of their first violent rendezvous and Faith decided that Robert would probably be there.  
  
Inside the church, Micah Luke amassed his followers. There were hundreds, thousands of them standing in the pews or clustering inside the church. He smiled as he hurled communion water into the masses. When he finished, he clapped his hands to attract the crowd's attention and then relayed his orders.  
  
"You all have a mission tonight, you shall march in the direction of the Hyperion but shall wait to carry out your assault until I arrive. My little ceremony is necessary for the success of our mission and I shall meet you in the park a mile away from the Hyperion. I'm afraid I will be unable to accompany you as you carry out the first stage of our plan against the infidels but I must prepare for a second ceremony with a necessary ingredient you must extract from our friends," he grinned viciously as he contemplated the thought.  
  
"Her name is Dawn Summers and she is the Key that will allow us to secure our victory!"  
  
The crowd repeated, "Her name is Dawn Summers and she is the Key!" Their gaunt faces grimaced with dreams of victory and bloodlust. They quieted and awaited their shepherd's further guidance.  
  
"My congregation, in precisely three hours you shall march on the Hyperion hotel, destroy our enemies and bring back the Key. I shall be prepared by then and rest assured, God shall grant me the strength to destroy the infidels and scourge this world of corruption. The righteous shall reign and the damned shall be punished," he said each word emphatically, pausing between each one to allow them to sink into the impressionable minds of his flock. They all nodded their heads and understood their mission.  
  
"Our mass is ended, let us go in war to destroy the infidels and fulfill our prayers to bring judgment upon this evil world!" Micah's voice reached a crescendo and he began cackling evilly, glancing over at the elite guard compliments of the Pope that stood beside him. Their leader, a steely eyed, tall South African with swarthy skin and dressed in a red and white, flowing cloak complete with a red cross on a white background on his breastplate although he wore no armor otherwise, stared back at him with an expression of sole loyalty to him on his face. Micah Luke used his powers of persuasion to influence the Pope into sending his best soldiers to aid him in his righteous Crusade, now with them as his obedient followers, he planned to use them as the nucleus of his army. He allowed his congregation to file out and then he strutted over to the leader and the other men, who were dressed in black cloaks with red crosses on the center of their cloaks. They all carried swords and polearms while their commander hefted a massive curved blade. Luke's cold blue eyes met the brown eyes of the South African.  
  
"And the Lord said unto Gideon, that he should defeat the great host of foes circling around his pitiful army. And so shall you, Gideon, like the Lord said, bring justice to our enemies," he patted the man on the back. The man returned the pat by beating his chest with an abrupt motion.  
  
"I have no masters but Micah Luke and I shall lead the righteous flock to victory tonight," his face showed no emotion other than loyalty.  
  
"Good, but now where is my liege Robert La Morte? I told him to be here, alas, I'm sure he is battling them as we speak and shall meet up with you at the designated time. Now, you'll have to excuse me, I have to become a champion of God right now," he motioned for them to leave. He smiled as they marched out of the room, confident of his assured victory.  
  
Robert La Morte returned to the church where he had taken up temporary residence. There, he stripped himself of the shotgun, assault rifle and pistols he carried and deposited them in a secure locker concealed under the altar. He kneeled for a moment and prayed silently to God for what seemed like an eternity. However, his prayer was broken by the sound of loud footsteps entering the church. He jumped up and swiveled around to face the raven-haired beauty dressed in a red & black leather ensemble standing only a few feet away from him.  
  
"Hiya R, remember me?" Faith grinned and wet her lips with her tongue in a titillating manner.  
  
Robert La Morte tossed aside his sword and his cloak to reveal his face. He closed in on her and they embraced, falling to the floor in a passionate heap as they made love among the pews to the light of the prayer candles flickering to the sides of the church. 


	4. Act Three

Oz paced in the lounge while Giles lay plopped on the couch nearby. Connor, Wood, Gunn and Xander were either seated or resting in the same room. A few lamps dimly lighted the room while leaving almost everyone shrouded in darkness, with the exception of Giles. Oz finally quit pacing and walked over to Giles. The groggy watcher rose and glanced at the shorter American.  
  
"I just can't believe she would do such a thing," Oz nodded in reply to Giles' statement.  
  
"Yeah, could've came at a better time," Xander sarcastically interjected from across the room, "we're in the middle of a crisis and we're outnumbered and our only hope decides to skip town."  
  
The room remained silent for a moment as everyone contemplated their situation. Finally, Giles spoke up.  
  
"Oz?" He asked, startling the purple-haired werewolf.  
  
"Are you still upset about Willow?" Oz ignored the blue eyes of the Watcher which seemed to pierce into him.  
  
He shook his head no, but in reality he still felt the pangs of sorrow and frustration. To him, Willow's relationship with Tara still stung deep as a betrayal. He cared for the red-haired witch, but he had to deal with his lycanthropic side. It took him over a year to trek across the world and curb his bestial urges every full moon. Now, he could exert control over his lupine transformation, but Willow had decided to pursue a different sexual orientation. He still loved her, but he secretly knew she would never take him back.  
  
While Oz scrutinized himself, Connor, Gunn, Wood and Xander huddled in their corner and talked.  
  
"So Connor, might I ask why you ordered us to abandon Faith?" Xander stared at Connor with an irritated expression on his face.  
  
"I wanted her to die," Connor replied nonchalantly. "Figured she deserved to die after all the things she's done."  
  
"How can you say that? She saved all of us and your father!" The former Sunnydale Principal spouted forth against the blond-haired boyish figure sitting in front of him.  
  
"That's the point. My father deserved to die; Buffy should've killed both of them when she had the chance. But I suppose she never could bring herself to kill anyone who was her friend, even if they turned evil," Connor's eyes glowered in rage at the thought.  
  
"So that was all your stupid little vendetta with her?" Gunn angrily responded, "You forced us to leave a comrade by playing on our fears. I'm sure we all could've taken him, but of course you always have your little insidious agenda Connor." He spat the last line of dialogue at Connor to illustrate the contempt he felt for the boy. After all, Connor never had been a true member of the group; he always had been deceitful and resentful from his first appearance in LA.  
  
"To be frank- yes, that is correct," Connor smirked, extracting pleasure from the rage encapsulating the three around him. He rose to his feet and calmly walked out of the room, leaving the shocked and angry occupants inside.  
  
Then, Wesley and Fred walked in the room, the taller Britisher hefting a chest containing weapons while the American woman carried a crossbow. Wesley deposited the chest in the middle of the room and allowed Fred to speak first.  
  
Fred took a deep breath and spoke quickly, informing the others that there wasn't very much time until the Hyperion was besieged and it was time to put aside all silly grudges. She motioned for Wesley to start handing out weapons and asked where Connor had gone. Xander pointed to the hallway and Fred hurriedly rushed out of the room.  
  
Giles seized an axe and then briefly chatted with Wesley.  
  
"Do you think Buffy will come back?" the older former watcher asked the other.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know," the younger, taller one merely shrugged.  
  
Wesley went from Giles to Oz and asked the werewolf if he wanted a weapon. Oz shook his head; Wesley glanced at Giles as if to ask what's up with him. Giles' stony stare communicated to Wesley what Oz was going to do when the fight came along.  
  
"Oh," Wesley shivered at the thought of a raging werewolf in action and he crossed the room to hand weapons to Xander and the others.  
  
Xander showed off a shotgun he had brought with him from his mother's basement before Sunnydale collapsed and took up a long sword. Gunn grabbed a long rapier while Wood noticed a fancy samurai scabbard lying amidst the pile of weapons and unsheathed the katana. He then re-sheathed the sword and hung it around his waist.  
  
Wesley made sure that everyone in the room was armed as they saw fit and he walked out of the room to find Fred.  
  
He found Fred conversing with Connor in one of the suites. He waited outside the door, having noticed the rather heated verbal battle between them and eavesdropped on them.  
  
"Why do you hate him so much?" he heard Fred scream.  
  
"He killed the family, I have all right to wish him dead," Connor snarled back.  
  
"Connor! He is your family, he's your father, haven't you realized that?" Fred pleaded to the boy, imploring him to open up.  
  
Connor refused and answered her angrily, "He never was a father to me. He can go burn in hell for the things he's done. I really don't care. And that slut Faith can go with him!"  
  
Wesley stood aside as Connor slammed the door open and stamped outside, briefly exchanging a look with the fallen watcher. Finding no vestige of sympathy in Wesley's face, Connor continued down the corridor.  
  
Wesley sighed and attended the crying Fred, who was in tears after failing to curb the fierce resentment contained within Connor.  
  
Two hours later, everyone met in the lobby of the hotel. Willow stood outside the group acting as the de facto leader, Xander stood by her side, his shotgun at rest in his hands while his sword dangled by his belt. The redhead stared at the waiting faces of the others. Everyone was worried, even Connor seemed to project uncertainty. The potentials were especially frightened, many of them whispering and muttering amongst themselves, barely able to contain their fear. Only Wood and Gunn seemed stalwart, the two stood side-by-side and gave Willow the silence and respect she needed. Lorne cowered in the corner; he didn't particularly care for killing humans.  
  
Willow addressed the crowd, "we haven't heard from Angel, Kennedy or Faith. We have an hour until they are supposed to return and Oz senses our enemies will be upon us by then. These are people we are fighting, but these are people who have been mislead to follow evil. These fanatics are consumed with evil, bloodshed and rage. They will fight until they have won, exactly like the demons we have fought and they will surely give no quarter. They want to destroy us, and we have no choice but to fight them. Buffy isn't here, but we can still beat them without her. There will be no retreat and no cowardice tonight, if we must lose, let us take down as many of them as we can. Let them pay for every inch of ground they seize in their own blood." She spoke slowly and coldly, knowing that she must abandon her traditional compassion and effervescence at this grave hour.  
  
After she finished speaking, Giles led a loud affirmation of her orders and a promise to fight to death. Inside, he felt sickened by the thought of killing humans. All his life he had been trained to prevent human bloodshed and that demons were the only ones supposed to be killed. Now, the world was no longer so black and white. Humans were capable of the malevolent ferocity possessed by demons and could even wield such cruelty against their own species. And he would take his first human lives tonight. Years ago, he would have denounced it as murder, now he wasn't quite so certain he could do that. And Buffy was gone, and he was partially guilty for her sudden departure. He tried to have Spike killed, even when he was perfectly aware of the intense relationship between the vampire and the blonde slayer that he always treated like she were his own daughter. And she hated him for that, after all, her words to him were "I think you've taught me everything I need to know." Without her, he was just a stuffy former watcher who was about to face an army of murderous fanatics with a pitiful host consisting of his and Angel's friends and compatriots. He was sure they had no chance but he would fight to end to protect his friends even if his best warrior and confidante had abandoned them all to their fates.  
  
Oz sensed the full moon outside the comfort of the room. He felt sharper, more attuned and a secret bloodlust within him. The wolfish instincts began to surface in him as he absorbed the rays of the moon. He restrained the transformation, waiting until the zealots would arrive. When they did, he would unleash a terrible power like he never had before. He would kill them all if it were necessary to protect the others, especially Willow, Xander and Giles, who had always been family to him.  
  
Dawn stood in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by the potential slayers. She ignored them and concentrated on her guilt. She knew she had in a sense betrayed Buffy and kicked her out of their home in Sunnydale. Ever since then, her sister had never been the same, even more morose and depressed than usual. She missed Spike as well, and wished he could've survived the fall of the cavern and kept her sister happy. She always had a secret crush on the platinum blonde vampire, but Buffy was his main priority and Dawn knew she could never compete with her sister in that regard. Now, Buffy was gone, partially thanks to her. And she realized that the fanatics were coming here not for the sake of a crusade against the demons infesting the city, but because they wanted her power. She could destroy the world if she was in the wrong hands and she recognized the intentions of the zealots. Dawn kept those thoughts to herself, hoping to prevent further distress within the group.  
  
The former principal of Sunnydale High, Robin Wood, thought to himself for a moment as the room quieted down. He wondered where Faith was and if she was safe. He had taken a liking to the dark slayer during his tenure in Sunnydale and had the pleasure of her in bed. She was so charismatic and passionate and he immediately had fallen under her spell. Their lovemaking however concluded after the defeat of the First, and Faith distanced herself from him. Nevertheless, he still secretly had affection for the raven-haired beauty and lusted after her. With Buffy, his relationship was only a friendship among comrades in the war against evil but with Faith, it was personal. Unbeknownst to him, Faith had now taken a new lover and she no longer loved him. In a few hours, everything would come to a full circle and everyone in that room would face the consequences.  
  
Meanwhile, Angel and Kennedy cautiously patrolled the streets of Los Angeles, searching for the vagrants they suspected to be members of the holy army marching against them. They interrogated vampires and demons, turning up nothing other than rough guesses or outright fabrications. It was close to 2 in the morning, three hours past the meeting point and they had heard nothing concerning the whereabouts of the foes nor of Faith's. But their luck was about to change.  
  
Suddenly, Kennedy's slayer sense picked up the sounds of marching footsteps a few streets away. Angel also detected them and growled as he sensed a vast host of humans, all of them armed to the teeth. They gave off an aura, which he had rarely sensed; it was the aura humans gave off when they went off to war. It was an aura of bloodshed and a desire to inflict pain, to murder, ravage and destroy. And this was equally as powerful as in demons, and he realized that these would be some of the toughest foes he had ever fought. The potential slayer and the vampire stealthily approached the position of the vast host, noticing that they were approaching the park, which was only a mile away from the Hyperion. As they entered the park, Angel noticed a grove of bushes where they could hide behind and observe their enemies. They rushed behind them as the leading groups of the crusading vagrants marched forth from beyond the wall of buildings surrounding the park. 


	5. Act Four

Faith and Robert consummated their lust on the floor of the church. The flickering light from the candles illuminated their figures as the images of Christian figures looked down upon them with faceless expressions. Faith's loud gasps for breath reverberated throughout the empty room while La Morte made almost no sound, but pressed against her with the force of each contraction. Finally, the man, who was six or seven inches taller than Faith rolled off her and lay beside her. Faith extended her right arm and reached it around his shoulders in an embrace. Their faces stared at each other. La Morte couldn't help but notice the extensive makeup Faith wore, which darkened her brown eyes and made her lips a perfect shade of crimson red. They glistened in the moonlight like a red pool. Faith stared at La Morte's ragged face. His face contained several scars and was covered in a scraggly black beard. His cold blue eyes reflected a gentleness that she had never seen in him while his face looked ruggedly handsome in spite of its disheveled appearance. They stared at each other in the awkward silence that accompanies most lovers for their first liaison but Faith shattered the silence quickly.  
  
"Robert?" she asked inquisitively as if to begin a difficult, thought provoking question.  
  
He nodded in recognition.  
  
"Why didn't you kill me?" her brown eyes bored deep into him, searching for the answer.  
  
"Well Faith, that's because I saw this glimmer within you. It was this spark that refused to be extinguished, this passion, this strength, this love that I just couldn't bring myself to destroy. I had convinced myself that you were evil, I was briefed fully on your infamous exploits as a drudge of evil, but at that moment, all that past history vanished and I saw a different Faith. I saw vulnerable woman struggling between good and evil, hardly the hardened villain I expected. I guess I saw a little bit of myself in you," he smiled at the end as he noticed Faith's rapt attention to his monologue.  
  
"Wow, never knew I had it in me," Faith shrugged, surprised a little at La Morte's open confession. She was shocked that she felt similar thoughts about him. It was funny how their first meetings were generally involving them trying to kill each other and now they were screwing like rabbits and were just a regular Romeo and Juliet. She didn't really know how to respond to his statement, so she just remained silent for a long while, brooding to herself. While doing so, she remained ignorant to La Morte's sudden change in disposition.  
  
He rose up, dressed himself and donned his suit of armor and cloak. His blue eyes had reverted back to their piercing and cold gaze and his smile changed from one of joy to one of pure malevolence. His violent side had reasserted control of his fragile psyche and persuaded him to honor his orders from Micah Luke. His dark id knew to avoid mentioning Faith as one of his targets, since his human side had taken quite a liking to her. His thoughts turned from lust and passion to bloodshed and combat, after all, the ritual had created him to be the ultimate warrior and he was. Soon, he would unleash his terrible power against Faith's friends, but he kept his agenda secret from his lover. He then crossed the room to where he left his sword and he sheathed it in a scabbard that hung along his back. He walked over to Faith and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
Faith cringed; the kiss felt like ice, it lacked the heat and comfort of their lovemaking only moments before. This one felt like the kind of kiss a vampire would give its victim before its teeth plunged into his or her neck. She shuddered for a moment as it dawned on her that Robert had reverted back to his old self and she tried to force her thoughts into stopping him from carrying out whatever dark deeds he planned on but she couldn't even bring herself to open her lips to order him to stop. It was as if she was dumbfounded by love and she couldn't lift a finger against him, it seemed so strange but she actually cared for him. Besides, her thoughts added, Angel and the others didn't need her help, they could've cared less about her, Buffy could save them if she wanted to. And so Faith allowed the black-armored knight to exit the church, his cloak billowing in the night breeze. The chilly wind snuffed out the candles and La Morte slammed the massive oak doors behind him, leaving Faith in darkness.  
  
Angel and Kennedy watched the ranks of the vagrant army arrive in the center of the park. They clustered around the fountain where he and Buffy had tried to reconcile hours before, their mouths silent and the only sounds he could hear was their footsteps treading softly through the night. There were hundreds of them, men and women dressed in ragged clothes probably donated from the Salvation Army. They clutched all manner of weapons ranging from knives to scythes; many of them had red crosses on their foreheads painted in their own blood. This was the army of the poor, the same people Angel tried to protect every night from all manner of evil, and now they had turned against him. He swore silently to himself that he wished he could've done more for them and stopped them from falling victim to the impassioned violent sermons of a dangerous demagogue, but it really didn't matter. He looked over to his side and saw Kennedy, who was clearly frightened by the vast numbers of humans whose only thoughts hinged on killing her and her friends. He knew he would have to unleash his full ferocity upon them and be as merciless as fighting the most fearsome demons, for these humans would not stop until they destroyed him and his compatriots. Kennedy stared at him as if to plead him to leave with her, but he shook his head and turned back to observe the assembling horde.  
  
Finally, the rearguard arrived. These men were different than the rest, they were dressed in uniforms that resembled the Jesuit order Angel remembered from terrorizing Europe in the past. He remembered that they were his most dangerous opponents and were as crafty and devious as the demons they fought. He noticed that these were better armed than the mob they commanded, many of them carrying rapiers and broadswords of such a superior make that they reflected in the dim moonlight. Their leader, a huge tan-skinned man towered above the others and stood in front of the mob. The huge man wore an saintly white cloak with a red cross emblazoned on it which barely seemed to contain his bulging muscles. The man lifted his huge curved scimitar up into the air as he began ranting about their mission. Angel picked up bits and pieces from his sermon, something about a covenant and a key. His mind suddenly snapped, the part about the key meant that the mob was coming to seize Dawn for some nefarious scheme. He knew he had to run back to the Hyperion as quickly as possible and inform the others. He seized Kennedy's hand and they sprinted as quickly as they could from the park back to the Hyperion. Kennedy checked her watch and whispered to Angel that it was zero hour. They hurried onward, never glancing backward to see if they were being followed.  
  
Meanwhile, Gideon lectured on to the crowd, the masses cheering him on and repeating his cries of vengeance and salvation. He wasn't grinning however, since the master was late and it seemed so unusual for a man as charismatic and tidy as Micah Luke. He continued with his sermon, hoping that the master would show and then he could lead the army to victory. Suddenly, his sermon was interrupted by a tall figure dressed entirely in black who made his way through the crowd. The vagrants parted like the Red Sea before Moses and cautiously eyed the seemingly mysterious stranger who had just entered their midst. Gideon's face turned from startled to exuberant as he recognized the newcomer. He rushed out to meet the dark man with flowing, long black hair and the billowing cloak and prostrated himself before him. He had a few inches on the knight, but he feared the man like no other, for the man was an esteemed warrior for the church and was unstoppable in battle. Gideon feared to ever cross him or upset the black knight in any way.  
  
"It is an honor for you to join us, sir," he lowered his head in respect for the figure standing before him.  
  
Sir Robert La Morte raised his head and a sinister grin crossed his face. He patted the South African on the back as if he were an obedient hound and whirled around to face the crowd. He unsheathed his sword in a swift motion and raised it into the air. The crowd, at first unsure of what to do, realized his intent and they proceeded to raise their weapons in the air and they began chanting his name loudly like a mass of obedient acolytes before their God. La Morte re-sheathed the sword and spoke loudly, his voice booming through the park.  
  
"Micah has told me that he cannot make it tonight. He has been held up by an unexpected inconvenience. But never fear, for I am with you. We shall attain victory tonight and we will start by marching on the Hyperion and destroying the demons within!" His eyes turned from a cold blue to a bright red as his demon side took a hold of him. He raised his fist into the air and pointed to the west in the direction of the hotel. He strutted forward, motioning for the others to follow him. The surging masses of Micah Luke's followers ran after him, brandishing their weapons like vengeful furies descending upon their prey. Gideon rose up and ran after La Morte, catching up with him and raising his blade as he prepared for the inevitable attack upon the hotel. He briefly glanced over at La Morte and laughed, the black-haired man returned the laughed and the two murderous zealots led the followers on the mile long march to their destination.  
  
Angel and Kennedy rushed into the hotel, closing the doors behind them. Kennedy who was breathing rapidly from the mile long dash, ran over to the benches nearby and lifted one with her impressive slayer strength. She propped it up against the door as a barricade and then rushed back to find another object to barricade the door from the incoming invaders. Angel followed her lead and effortlessly lifted a sofa chair and set it against the doors. They then noticed that everyone else was staring at them. Kennedy and Angel glanced at each other and then addressed the fearful crowd.  
  
"It's as bad as we expected," Angel said in a downcast fashion.  
  
"Where's Faith?" piped up Giles, who noticed the raven-haired girl wasn't with them.  
  
"She split a while ago and we haven't heard from her since," Kennedy joined in the conversation.  
  
"How long is it till they'll be here?" inquired Willow, whose eyes were nervous at the thought of the incoming battle. She knew she would have to use dark magic to protect her friends and she feared it would overcome her like it had before. She ran over to Kennedy and hugged her.  
  
Angel walked over to Fred and put his hand on her shoulder as if to assure her that everything would be all right. Fred returned his gesture with an embrace and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Angel blushed, feeling embarrassed in front of everyone. He also noticed the hostile stare his son was giving him. He moved from Fred to his human son and tried to speak to him.  
  
"Connor?" he asked, pleading for his son to open up to his father.  
  
But Connor only remained silent, his eyes boring into Angel's soul like two fiery coals full of hatred. Angel backed off, knowing he wasn't wanted there and he walked among the group, assuring them everything would be okay and they could still win.  
  
Giles gave the souled vampire a feeble attempt at a confident smile, but he pessimistically feared they wouldn't survive, that this would be their last apocalypse. They had fought vampire after vampire, demon after demon, even an exiled hellgod and the First Evil itself, but this army seemed so great and even if they overcame wave after wave of fanatics, Giles knew they would have to face the tremendous power of Robert La Morte. Nothing could stop the black knight, the man's power was so potent that he could slay hellgods, Faith wasn't even a match for him and Buffy probably wouldn't have had very much success against him either. But his thoughts forced out all doubts and concentrated on winning the fight ahead. He talked briefly with Angel and suggested that he take Dawn upstairs and they barricade themselves in a room. Angle nodded in agreement and Giles took the hand of Buffy's sister and led her upstairs, where they blockaded themselves within a secure hotel room.  
  
Oz tried to reminisce about the good old days of Sunnydale with Xander, but the shotgun-wielding former construction worker seemed too morose and depressed to even carry on a decent conversation. Oz's acute sense of smell picked up a scent coming from outside the hotel, in fact right in front of the doors. He growled and pointed towards the door.  
  
Just then, everyone in the lobby all heard a loud pounding on the entrance to the hotel Xander was the first to raise his weapon and leveled his shotgun at the doors. Those of the warriors that had crossbows kneeled or crouched in a firing stance and aimed at the door with their weapons trained on the center. Angel stood by with the first rank, whose weapons were at the ready. After what seemed like an eternity, probably only consuming a few seconds, the doors finally burst open. Xander was about to pull the trigger when he noticed that a familiar petite blonde had just kicked open the door courtesy of her slayer strength. The blonde dusted herself off and stood up, allowing the rest of the group to fully recognize her.  
  
"Hi guys, you miss me?" Buffy grinned and walked right in, slamming the doors behind her. 


	6. Envoi

"Buffy?" Willow's eyes lit up, as if her friend's return had cast her from the shadows back into the light. She rushed over to the shorter blonde and hugged her with such a force Buffy staggered backwards. She buried her head past Buffy's shoulder and persisted while Buffy tried to free herself from the redhead's vice-like grip.  
  
"Why'd you do it?" asked Xander, who appeared a combination of relieved and angry. Buffy finally freed herself from Willow and addressed him.  
  
"I needed a break, that's all. But I suppose it wasn't the best time to take one considering your condition," Buffy grinned, trying to joke off the gravity of their situation. Wesley looked furious enough that he would strike her, but he walked forward and raised his arms as if to give the slayer a warm welcome to supplement Willow's.  
  
"Woah there, Wes!" Buffy raised her hand in a polite no thank you motion and Wes backed off. "I not sure but I don't think this is a time to hug and kiss."  
  
"Right, how silly of me," Wes shifted back into warrior mode.  
  
Angel walked up to Buffy. "Can you fight?" he asked as he towered above the woman he still loved, but seemed to have no intention of returning it. She shrugged, "sure, I think I'm up to it."  
  
The gang, immensely relieved by this apparent stroke of good fortune, joined together and proceeded to barricade the doors and the windows. Giles and Wesley barricaded the hallway upstairs and locked themselves in a room with Dawn, acting as a last ditch defense. Meanwhile, Buffy and the others gathered beyond the door and prepared for the upcoming battle. The slayer marshaled her troops and assigned people who were armed with missile weapons to the backs of those armed with hand-to-hand weapons.  
  
She found herself clutching the hand of the tall, dark-haired vampire who had been her greatest lover years before. It was a discreet embrace, no one seemed to notice it, but Angel seemed happier than usual. He glanced over at Buffy and Buffy returned it, her blue eyes showing despair. Angel understood that even the best warrior of the bunch knew it would be a tough fight ahead and not all of them would survive this fight.  
  
Willow stepped away from the group and began readying her spells. Her eyes became an opaque black and she silently chanted protection spells for the others and prepared to unleash her power against the bloodthirsty horde outside. She had promised Kennedy that she wouldn't use magic or at least to try to avoid it after they all left Sunnydale. But she also understood that if her friends were in grave danger and her powers were necessary for their survival, then she would have no choice but to utilize the dark forces of magic to save them. She was dressed in a black outfit consisting of black jeans, blouse and shoes which matched the color of her hair and her eyes. Kennedy looked back at her from among the ranks that awaited the assault. Willow could only return her fearful glance with a blank expression from her vacant face. Kennedy then turned around and kneeled down, aiming her crossbow at the center of the door.  
  
The doors of the church where Faith and La Morte had consummated their love burst open as Faith walked outside. She had managed to fully dress herself and retain her old self, but parts of her were still overcome with angst- ridden desire. Faith realized that she was carrying weapons, a feeling which would have made herself feel almost naked only days before, but she felt as if she didn't need them. She hoped to avert the catastrophic battle ahead and save both her friends and her lover from the other's blades. It was a futile attempt, but an undying hope within her as Faith hurried back to the Hyperion, the wind blowing her hair in the wind. She ignored the rising pain within her and persisted on running at the fastest pace possible. It seemed pathetic to her that she felt so much affection for a cruel killer, but a part of her wanted him, needed him.  
  
La Morte, Gideon and the army finally reached the hyperion within a span of a few minutes. Gideon marshaled the troops outside, ordering the best fighters to the back but the strongest ones with axes and polearms to the front. He grinned as the hundreds upon hundreds of men and women lined up in front of the hotel, raised their weapons and awaited his command with perfect discipline. He was surprised at this, being that most religious mobs were usually unruly and unmanageable, but it seemed that Micah Luke had trained his followers well, or at least in some manner entranced them into the obedient, driven machines that they were now. His huge muscular frame towered above the scrawny, emaciated poverty-stricken masses he commanded assured him of his dominant presence among them. He called for La Morte to join him. The black knight walked up beside him and nodded, his pale, gaunt face gleaming with bloodlust. Gideon raised his blade and shouted for the soldiers to break down the door and kill all inside. With that, the horde rushed at the door, the front ranks consisting of the stronger, taller ones capable of hewing through the barricaded door with axes, spades and hammers.  
  
Inside, Buffy and the others watched apprehensively as the doors imploded with the fast force applied against them. The barricade shook with each pounding blow wrought upon the door until it could take no more. It would take only a few minutes for Micah Luke's soldiers to break down the door, plunge into the room and descend upon the slayer and her allies. In the precious few time, allowed them, Buffy and Angel kissed, only briefly, almost passionless, but Angel felt a glimmer of love within the expressionless eyes of the slayer. Finally, Willow could take the suspense no more and cried something out in Latin. Fireballs appeared in the palms of her hands and she tossed one after the other at the door. The scorching balls of fire ripped through the door into the front ranks of the army, incinerating the front ranks.  
  
La Morte and Gideon saw their chance and urged the wavering vagrant soldiers to follow them. They charged into the room screaming battle cries in the same language the redheaded witch had just used to wield her magic against them. Their followers surged behind them and dozens of them rushed in front of their commanders to meet unpleasant fates at the hands of flying crossbow bolts or upon the blades of the front ranks. Oz cringed and fell to the ground as he felt the bestial instincts course through him. He quickly became a massive wolf like creature and jumped into a group of scythe-armed fanatics. They sliced him and struck him with their weapons, but Oz ignored the pain as if it were mosquito bites. He howled and ripped apart one of them, then gutted a woman who tried to thrust her spear into him. He stared into the hateful eyes of the fanatics as they shouted their curses and battle cries and charged at them, hewing away at any foe that came near him.  
  
Buffy looked at Angel, who instantly vamped out and blocked the blow of a ragged street dweller. Buffy fought beside him, blocking blows and striking out with her fist and her blade, cutting down foe after foe.  
  
La Morte stood in the middle of the surging mass as they charged forward. His raucous laughter filled the room as his face gleamed with pure malevolence. He felt his demon side take control of him and he raised his sword, smiling as he charged at the first target he instantly saw. His laughter continued, drowning out the sounds of the battle. 


End file.
